


To Ashes

by Etched_in_Fire



Series: Star Fox: Fate's Decree [15]
Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: Anxiety, Broken Hearts, Corneria, Depression, Gen, Heartbreak, Papetoon, Regret, this started as a vignette and it became too big
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etched_in_Fire/pseuds/Etched_in_Fire
Summary: 8 ALW -- It has been five years since she last saw Fox McCloud and eight since she chose to stay on Corneria during the Lylat Wars.  Fara Phoenix would have liked to say she lived an ideal, happy life and never regretted any of her choices.  But that would be a lie.





	1. A Lingering Flame

          They had said goodbye two years after the Lylat Wars had ended.  It was not in the way she had expected it to go.  They had been like two wildfires, raging against the world with their hearts on their sleeves.  But then they had dwindled.  And then their love had extinguished.  Fara could not have confessed aloud that she shared blame.  She would have rather said it was his wanderlust and his distance since he had left the Academy.  But silently, she confessed to herself that she should have done more.  She should have been more.  She should have, in the least, been enough.  And she had failed in that regard.  And now, Fox was gone… and she was left to her own devices.

          Regret had eaten away at her for the last five years.  She had courted fine young officers on and off, primarily at the request of her father, but they were dulled minds.  They had been meant to drink up the propaganda, living their life for ideals spouted by whoever wore that crimson general’s coat.  Fara knew once, she had been no different.  But the older she got, the more cynical she became.  Those demure eyes had been replaced with an edge that cut deeper than knives. 

            Life continued and though it had been cruel to her, it had also been kind.  The removal of Yaru de Pon from his presidential seat at Space Dynamics had shifted the power structure of the company around.  General Pepper and Beltino Toad had merged the company officially into the Cornerian Army, and Fara had been moved into a higher-ranked position.  In all actuality, her title was something so long even she could not keep track of it—what she cared about were the ships they gave her to fly. 

            They gave her the best-of-the-best, of course.  These were the ships so experimental that the populace was unaware of their existence.  They were a hair under the performance of the Arwing—and Fara only knew that was due to the lack of James McCloud’s genius on the designing committee.  But it did not matter; they flew like gods in the sky and sent that adrenaline spike through her veins that kept her alive through the years of bitter regret.  In a world that seemed to have passed her by, flying kept her smiling.  And so she flew every day she could.

            And that particular day was no exception.

            She hopped off her hoverbike and unfastened her helmet.  Leaving it on the handle of her bike, she strode into the Flight Test Center with her typical faked cockiness.  She had learned how to master masking her storming emotions long ago, keeping stoic as the glass doors slid open.

 _Professionalism, professionalism, professionalism.  Another day in the office, let’s make it a good one!_   Fara chanted to herself, hands stuck into the pockets of her leather jacket in a tomboyish fashion.  And by “the office”, she, of course, meant another day of zipping around the Cornerian sky.

          The Flight Test Center was a pristine building kept in pristine condition.  It had been built three years ago after much debate and discussion as to where the experimental ships needed to be tested.  Inside of the capital seemed like too much of a risk and so General Pepper had ordered Space Dynamics to take their experiments outside of city limits.  Beyond the Dober Mountain Range, they had found some measure of solitude from the public.  The only folk who came out into the mountains were those looking to hike in the Cornerian frontier (or what was slimly left of it after rampant urbanization).  But those numbers were small and hefty metallic fences kept away any who stumbled across the research facility. 

          Admittedly, the commute was not ideal from the city to the Flight Test Center.  Yet Fara endured it, cherishing the winding road and the feel of the breeze against her fur.  Space Dynamics offered her a suite on-site but she had refused it; living life away from society just felt like a bad idea.  Even if the loud cityscape was a far cry from Papetoon, the silence was sometimes scarier than the constant screeching of sirens. 

The lobby of the Center was vaguely busy.  A small line had formed to get into the Center proper.  Its progress was hampered by a security guard and a scanner that would check anyone for any prohibited items.  Since the Lylat Wars, everything had changed.  Security had never been tighter and the punishment even for bringing a fake blaster onto governmental property was hefty.  Fara could not remember the last time she had kept a weapon on her.

            “Good morning, Ms. Phoenix!” the receptionist, a kindly old hound, beamed at her as she filed into the line next to the front desk.   

            “Good morning!” Fara replied with a tiny smile.  “How are you today?” She tried her best not to sound robotic and to sound sincere.

            “I am just fine!  Took the grandkids out to the movies yesterday and got my nails done over the weekend with my daughter,” the receptionist flashed her nails at Fara as she swiped in with her cardkey.  The hound’s nails had been done in a bright pink that reminded Fara of the dolls her parents used to buy her when she had been a kit.  They had always been donned in rosy, frilly dresses with too much lace… And she had hated each and every one of them. 

            “Oh, that’s a pretty color,” Fara complimented the elderly lady regardless.  The receptionist’s smile warmed the fennec’s heart.

            “Maybe next time, you should come with us!” the receptionist called as Fara began to walk through the scanner.  The guard did not seem to care at all about his job and stood with a glassy expression and his arms folded over his chest.

            “Haha, you’ll have to book an appointment with me, I’m afraid!  The boss told me I’ll be getting overtime until they’ve finished tuning the new model!” Fara replied with a laugh fringing her voice.

            Down the hallway was the elevator, which she took to the third floor as she did every work day.  The third floor spilled out into a hallway of gray walls and broad glass windows.  Offices lined the hall in pairs with nameplates hanging at each door.  Fara had gotten used to their pattern over the last few years.  There had been little turn over in the facility—everyone was passionate and the administration was not keen on letting many go.  Not without oodles and oodles of paperwork that Fara was certain they did not particularly enjoy dealing with.

            She made it to the lounge, which smelled thick of coffee and buzzed with the news.  It was always something political—talk shows debating the successor of General Pepper (a hot topic, as there were rumors surrounding the general’s retirement) and discussing the bubbling Oikonny Rebellion, which had taken up refuge in the outskirts of the Lylat System. 

            But today, it was playing something different. 

            There was a small gathering by the TV—interns and engineers alike standing with their mugs of cooling coffee as the news anchors gave their report.  In the corner, Fara noticed the image of a fertile, green planet.  Underneath the picture were the words “DINOSAUR PLANET” beneath it.  She raised her brows in mild interest but decided that coffee was more important.  The fennec found the coffee pot already filled by some kindly soul and so she poured herself a healthy supply into her canister. 

            As she began about doctoring the coffee up with sugar and creamer, her large ears swiveled in the direction of the television.  Someone cranked the volume up a little louder. 

            The news anchor spoke, “… don’t know the extent of how this is possible, what we do know is the name of the hero responsible for the planet coming back together.  James “Fox” McCloud Jr, back in the news for the first time in a while—”

            Fara nearly gave herself whiplash.  She looked at the screen with wide green eyes, grip like a vice around her canister.  The image of the planet had been replaced by a picture of Fox.  He looked matured.  Slightly rugged but Fara had expected that.  Without thinking, she moved closer to the TV.

            “While we could not establish an on-screen interview with McCloud, we did receive a statement from wingman and former Cornerian officer Peppy Hare.  It reads: ‘We did what any other citizen of the Cornerian Empire would’ve done—we saw what was going on and we went to help.  Dinosaur Planet is an ancient planet, full of great people and great beauty.  We would save it all over again if we had to.’… Touching words from former Officer Hare,” the news anchor said. “And now, live on Liberty Square is Stella Skysweep.  Stella, can you describe the scene there?”

            _Dinosaur Planet… You really did go and see everything, didn’t you, Fox?_

            The image on the screen shifted to a young blonde dog, clutching a microphone in one hand.  She was clearly in a crowd, with other news reporters all around her with their equipment and crews clustered about the food of a platform.  Its podium was unoccupied.

            “Right now we are awaiting a statement from General Pepper on the revelations of Dinosaur Planet’s near explosion in the Outreach Rim.  While the area has historically never been heavy in traffic, scientists project an explosion would cause a ripple effect through the Lylat System so massive that even the capital would--” Stella explained.

            Yet her report was cut short by the entrance of the Boss.  It was not often that he swung by the lounge.  Fara’s large ears detected his foot pattern before he made it to the doorway.  Immediately, she stiffened, looking to the grim-faced, harlequin Great Dane with beady eyes and drooping jowls.  He stood at an impressive height, ever looking down his snout at the others. 

            His name was Richard Kelvin.  At the age of 65, he was one of the oldest members of the army still serving, although he had taken a leadership role in the Flight Test Center.  He had achieved the rank of Admiral during the Cornerian Civil War—one of the few old coots alive with enough heart to even discuss what had happened on the battlefield.  Not that it particularly mattered—no one dared to ask him the things he had seen during those dark days.  No one dared to ask him about his missing left ear or the scrap metal scars on his forearms.

            “Sir!” the interns saluted him, one of them nearly spilling his coffee.

            He nodded to them, grunting something under his breath and walked to the coffee pot.  His mug was massive, fitting nicely in his enormous grip.  Draining the rest of the pot by himself, he gave little notice to the television set.

            “Officer Phoenix,” he said once he had filled his mug a hairsbreadth from the rim. “How are you today?”

            “Good, sir,” Fara said respectfully. 

            “I hope you are ready for today’s flight.  We are close to getting the Quasar Mark IV combat-ready,” he replied, taking a drink from his black-as-night coffee.  Fara almost grimaced for him.

            “Just a few more tests and then we can start mass-producing!” Fara chimed back with pep and zeal. 

            “General Pepper will not be joining us today, unfortunately.  I trust you have seen the news?” Admiral Richard asked her.

            Her nails clicked against her canister, grip tightening.  It took a lot to maintain control over her emotions. “Yes, I did,” Fara replied. “It looks like the General’s going to have a lot on his plate today.”

            “I wish him luck.  Better him than me, though,” the Admiral replied. “Suit up when you have finished your coffee.  We will start testing the Quasar IV in an hour.  Next week, we will move onto the Roadrunner II.  The General has been urging us to complete testing for the Quasar—this week or he will be making investigations as to why it is incomplete...”  He gave pause for a moment, turning his perpetually melancholy eyes to Fara. “And Officer Phoenix?  Please refrain from daydreaming in the cockpit today.  I would rather not keep our engineers up until dawn replacing any missing wings…”

            She felt her cheeks warm beneath her sandy fur. “Ah--!  O-of course, Admiral.”

            He vanished through the doorway shortly after, but his comment lingered on her mind.  Pride stinging, she massaged her forehead with a hand.  Thoughts mulling over the last few days, she tried her hardest not to take his remark to heart. 

            It had started with a careless maneuver.  A somersault too close to the ground and then, well… a scuffed hull.  Not too bad to repair, just the paintwork.  The Admiral had been fine with it then.  Even the chief engineers had gotten a few laughs from her folly.  But then, it was taking the ship too low and clipping a ridge with a wing.  She had tried to pass it off as an engineering failure but her second flight had proved her words against her when she had tried the same maneuver.  And then it had been a near collision with a passenger carrier on its way into space.  The mistakes stacked.  Slowly but surely.  She had felt the Admiral’s disappointment swelling as the testing dragged on for the Quasar IV.

            _It’ll be fine.  We have all week to finish it.  Just a few more tests and then it’ll be done._

            She nursed her coffee for a bit longer.  The inevitability of having to do work made her drag herself to her prep room.  Fara changed from her jacket, jeans, and fitted V-neck and into a white and green flight suit.  She caught her own eye in the mirror nearby.  Shadows had formed tiny valleys beneath her bright peridot irises, dwelling like unwelcome guests.  Her earthy, warm brown eyeshadow had done little to mask her tiredness.  Fara smiled at herself but it fell from her lips as soon as it formed.

            _Professionalism, professionalism, professionalism!  Today, we’re going to focus.  Getting lost in the clouds is fun.  Getting reprimanded for nearly crashing… not so fun._

            Once, she had felt sharp as an arrow, quick as a cheetah, and as tall as a mountain.  Those days felt like a lifetime ago. 

            _I wonder what Dinosaur Planet is like._

            The thought barreled her over like a runaway train.  She looked into the mirror and imagined Fox standing next to her.  Where his hand rested on her shoulder, she moved hers to meet it.  But there was no warmth to be found there—only empty air and she breathed out a sigh.

            _It’s been so long but I still don’t know who I am without him.  A test pilot?  I feel like I’ve been in this rut forever…_

            She tried to shake the melancholy away.

            _Professionalism.  Right.  Let’s do this._

            Bitter nostalgia still clung to her like a gaudy, bad perfume.  She wore it down the hallway with a sour, stinging gaze.  Fara told herself to focus the entire ride down to the hanger but it was a futile mantra—every other breath, she imagined the worlds that Fox had seen.  It was fondly that she thought of the Star Fox team… fondly with a hefty dose of heartache.  Perhaps if she had not sized their plan up so quickly… Perhaps if she had gone with them…

            _No, my place was here.  Helping my people in the way I knew how to best do it.  I shouldn’t regret that.  I helped test flight ships that caused us to win the war._

But there was ever a flame of doubt in Fara’s mind.

            _When was the last time I left Corneria?  When was the last time I truly lived?_


	2. Trial and Error

          The doors slid open and she stepped out into the hanger, looking at the various crafts lining the sides of the massive room.  Behind her and raised a few yards was the observation deck, where the Admiral was already positioned to oversee.  His crew of engineers was with them—handpicked from Space Dynamic’s finest along with a few impressive students from the military academy’s engineering division.  As she stepped into their view, she gave them a cheeky salute and a half-smile that betrayed not a sliver of her emotional maelstrom.             

          Fara walked down the aisle of experimental planes, all the way to the end.  To the left was her quarry, a sleek white and green fighter with curved-back, stubby wings.  A dorsal fin jutted out behind the cockpit.  It sported a hefty central cannon under its hull with firepower that Fara did not think the Arwing could ever hope to achieve.  Or so that was the goal—Fara did not dare press for answers, but she had a sneaking suspicion that General Pepper was a bit put out with a mercenary band having better equipment than his own army.

          She ran her hand over the Quasar’s side. As expected, the Center’s crew had patched up the Quasar Mark IV from its last incident.  Not even a scratch remained and Fara’s pride thanked them silently for that.  One of the leading pit mechanics greeted her with an energetic wave.  He was a newt with spectacles much larger than his eyes and buck-teeth that protruded from his front lip in a comical, cliché fashion.

          “O-officer Phoenix!” the newt said, scribbling on his clipboard. “You’re early!”

          “Early is on time in this division, Ned,” Fara said with a polite smile. “And the Admiral seems keen on getting this taken care of.”

          “Well, the Q-Q-Quasar is all set… all… all set and ready to go!” Ned replied in his usual excitable fashion. 

          “Thanks!” Fara replied cheerily.

          The cockpit opened, beckoning her with its slick black seats and array of glimmering buttons.  Using the stepstool, she pulled herself into the seat with little difficulty.  Her headset had been left on the dashboard and she collected it.  Fastening it on her head, she lowered the visor, adjusting the mic so that it was close enough to her mouth to pick up her voice.  Glancing at the hanger, she waited for Ned to back up before flicking on the Quasar Mark IV.

          Lights filled the dashboard, humming to pleasantly to life.  Its engine was soft murmur in the background, sweet as a symphony to Fara’s ears.  A cocksure smile drew upon her muzzle, vivid eyes glittering with swelling glee.  The skies called for her and she would answer them. 

          The screen to her right lit up, displaying the image of the Admiral standing on the observation deck.  She could see some of the engineers at their computers in the edges of the screen.  The Admiral was expressionless.  She had learned long ago to never expect any excitement from him. 

          “Clear skies all day.  We picked a good time to do this test.  Not that it matters.  The General wants his report.  Let us give it to him,” the Admiral said. “How does she look, Officer?”

          “Systems are a go, Admiral,” Fara reported. “Ready to launch at a moment’s notice.”

          “You’re cleared for takeoff,” the Admiral confirmed.

          She grabbed the joystick, securing a tight grip.  Setting the Quasar into a low hover, Fara felt the anticipation bubble at her chest.  It shook her hands, igniting her veins with electricity.  The world was waiting for her—the stage was the sky and she was the only star that mattered.  Directing the Quasar and aligning it to slip through the hangar doors, she felt her worries slip away.  They were lost to the tidal wave of her emotions, sinking into forgotten depths.  Her eyes grazed over her radar, scanning it for any abnormalities.  There was nothing—she was free.

          When Fara hit the accelerate, she did so with a gusto.  Engine crackling with life behind her, she watched the darkness of the hangar fall away.  Ever blue skies greeted her with Lylat brimming overhead.  She steered the Quasar upward, serenity finding her as the Center vanished from sight. 

          Corneria was a jewel in the Lylat System and Fara was reminded of it every day that she flew.  Mountains glossed with evergreen trees stretched high into the heavens.  Lakes scattered between them, pooled at their feet and fed by innumerable sapphire cascades.  She climbed higher, looking past the frosted peaks.  Cities in the distance materialized.  Their buildings were symmetrical, systematic.  All of Corneria was the same—crafted by designer hands.  Everything had a purpose.  Everything had its place.

          Even its people.

          But Fara?  Her place was in the sky.  As she pulled the Quasar up and over itself, Fox was banished from her thoughts.  His memory sank into those forgotten depths along with her anxiety.  Corneria rushed towards the window of her cockpit but she did not feel fear—she felt the _thrill_.  A hard pull on the joystick and she bowed out of the dive, curving up and resting at a reasonable altitude with her heart singing in her ears. 

          “Easy there, Officer,” the Admiral’s voice jerked her out of her joyful high. “We just repaired it and I haven’t the credits to fund another overnighter for our team.”

          “Right,” Fara replied.  “Officer Phoenix, ready for flight trial.”

          “Transmitting target signal to your radar,” Admiral Kelvin said.

          Within seconds, a few red dots appeared on her radar, scattered about the forested mountains.  Wordlessly, Fara U-turned the Quasar, directing it at the closest marker.  A green and white striped ring had been projected from the ground, rotating clockwise.  She pressed the Quasar into a boost, zipping through it and turning left to grab the next one.  It was child’s play, flying through rings.  Her heart still thrummed with excitement from the launch but its rate was slowing as she passed through the rings with relative ease. 

          “Next trial,” the Admiral said once she had finished flying through each one. “Releasing bogey.”

          “Roger that!” Fara answered.

          A puff of smoke indicated the bogey’s arrival.  It jetted up, out of the trees with astonishing speed.  She pressed the Quasar into a chase immediately, feeling it surge forth with zeal that matched her own.  For a moment, she could feel the thrill come back—but it evaporated when she remembered the bogey was unarmed.  A sigh dusted her mic with breath.  She aimed, fighting ever so slightly with her joystick to get her target aligned with her cannon.  Her finger squeezed the trigger and the bogey became fiery debris. 

          “Phase one, complete,” chimed a robotic voice over the intercom.

          “Officer Phoenix, do you consent to begin phase 2?” the Admiral asked her.

          “I do!” she replied firmly.

          “Transmitting target signal to your radar,” Admiral Kelvin said and Fara’s radar lit up with red dots.

          “Roger,” Fara said, taking note of the second set of rings the Admiral had activated.

          With expertise, she boosted the Quasar out a wide proximity, U-turning back in to face the first set of rings.  Her left hand hovered over the boost to begin the exercise for a few moments.  Fara inhaled deeply.  Part of her was always on fire, always wanting to burn in the atmosphere like a comet falling from the heavens.  She told herself to not let that fire grow out of control.  But her muscles cried out to slam the accelerate.  Her arms wanted to throw the Quasar into a spinning dive.  She wanted to feel how fast the Quasar could fly. 

          The ring spun in front of her.  A boring device.  She mildly boosted forward, killing that fire within her.  Her mouth moved across the word “professionalism” twice and she felt her excitement die down.  The first ring was collected.  She pulled up somewhat sharply to get the other one.  A somersault was needed for the third and fourth.  Fara was unamused.

          _You know, if you were on Dinosaur Planet, you wouldn’t have been doing this boring work.  You could’ve been out there.  Saving the world.  Saving it with him._

          The thought tore her heartstrings and she realized she had ducked under the next ring, missing it entirely. 

          “Officer?” the Admiral asked.

          “Joystick got stuck,” Fara said quickly in reply.  She could feel his disapproval.

          _No.  Not at a time like this.  Have to keep it together._

          The rest of the rings came without a problem.  Her hands were unsteady and her breathing was rapid.  She felt the gentle tug of the seatbelt against her chest, keeping her in her chair. 

          _And if you had been in the Lylat Wars, you could’ve been there with him too.  You told him he was crazy for wanting to go.  You told him he was crazy for what he saw.  “He’s dead, Fox”.  You didn’t believe him.  And maybe that’s why he--_

          “Firing armed bogey,” the Admiral warned her.

_\--left._

“R-roger!” Fara said.  She looked for the bogey but could not see the trail of smoke.  Tilting the joystick, she turned the Quasar to the right, frantically searching.  A dot binged on her radar and she took a moment to look at it. 

          _It says its… on top of me._

          The Quasar rocked with what she knew to be lasers striking its hull.  Fear had her boost the fighter forward.  She tried to find some thrill in the fight, but she was shaken, off-guard.  The Quasar U-turned and she faced the bogey head-on.  Teeth gnashed, she fired and it exploded into smoke and fire. 

          _That wasn’t smooth._

          “Officer Phoenix, are you ready for the next part of phase 2?” the Admiral asked, his doubts written in his expression.

          “Affirmative,” Fara Phoenix replied. 

          “Releasing multiple bogeys.  See how many you can shoot in the next two minutes,” the Admiral said.

          She gave the training grounds some distance as the bogeys fired into the air.  These were unarmed, she knew—they had only done these experiments what felt like a thousand times.  Fara activated the main cannon when she saw a cluster of targets arriving and fired a single shot.  The bogeys crumpled, burning in the air before their hulls made it to the ground.  She repeated the process twice more.  It was soothing, watching the targets burst.  Her heartrate slowed and with it, her breathing.

          But as soon as it did, she felt that sadistic part of herself breach the surface. 

          _You let him go.  And now you’re here.  Exactly where you wanted to be._

          She felt her grip on the joystick tighten.

          _Doesn’t it feel good?_

          It tightened further.  Something clicked.  It sounded distant.  Everything sounded distant.  Even the Admiral’s voice.  How much time was there left?

          _You’re about to deliver General Pepper his newest weapon.  To wage war on the people that deserve it.  You’re serving your people.  It feels good…_

          A red light had come onto the dash.  Her watery eyes found it, studying its symbol.  The Admiral had told her what it meant a long time ago.  She could not remember.

          _… Right?_

          “FARA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” someone yelled and she realized it was the Admiral.

          The Quasar’s nose was almost completely shrouded in light from the cannon.  Her finger was on the trigger button, charging a shot.  Fear whispered for her to let it go and so she did.  A beam of light rocketed out, searing the remaining two bogeys and cutting into the nearest mountain.  A few moments ticked by and then gradual, black pillars of smoke began to spiral upwards from the mountain.  It looked as though a number of trees had been cleared, revealing a blackened crater.  

          _What have I done…_

          She did not dare to look at the communications screen. The Admiral was fuming and she could hear it in the way his microphone picked up his taut breaths.  Fara could feel herself quivering but this time, it was not out of excitement. 

          “Phase 3.  Begin,” the Admiral said sharply.

          There were no rings this time.  Her scanner bleeped twice to indicate a large object incoming.  She turned the Quasar towards it, looking at the practice target.  It was a robot, hovering over the trees with a jetpack installed on its spine.  Both of its arms hosted blasters.  Unlike the armed bogeys, they had taken direction from the old Androssian units that had been left over after the Lylat Wars. This one, if Fara was correct, was based off of the infamous Gigarilla.  They had downsized its scaling tremendously to keep its destructive power in check.

          Her scanners indicated the spine as a weak point.  Fara boosted forward, trying to keep higher than her target.  The robot zipped upright, reeling a fist back.  She nimbly moved to the side, the fist hitting empty air.  Fara directed the Quasar into a U-turn and released a few blasts at the robot’s jetpack. 

          _This.  This is what I would be doing with Fox.  Taking down bad guys.  Relying on reflexes and intuition.  Saving the day._

The robot fell from the sky momentarily before its jetpack kicked back in.  Angrily, it opened fire at Fara.  She accelerated out of the way, turning sharply and unleashing a few more lasers at the robot’s back.  They grazed its size and it replied with firing back.  She veered left, feeling a hit land on her left wing.  She doubled back for another strike but the robot had learned her game.  It faced her, showering her direction with lasers.  Fara ducked low, the bottom of her hull tickling the air above the Cornerian pine trees.  She pulled up when she had passed underneath the robot.  It chased after her, a stream of lasers trailing after the Quasar.  She somersaulted over the robot, landing a few hits on its back.

          When the pack exploded, she felt a small smile crawl across her face.  She boosted away from the robot as it fell to the Cornerian wilds with fire spewing from its back.  Fara directed the Quasar upwards, letting it climb in altitude. 

          _That was scary.  But it’s fine now.  It’s over.  I did it.  And now, for the final stage--_

          It dimly occurred to her that the Admiral had not asked her about the next stage yet.  Brows furrowed slightly, the fennec chanced a look at the screen.  Admiral Kelvin looked stoic as ever, but he was focused on a computer nearby.  She was thankful she had been spared his glare and focused her eyes on the radar. 

          The red dot was still on her scanner.  Fara blinked twice before it registered to her.  The Quasar rocking from lasers being fired solidified her fears-- the robot was still functioning.  She threw the Quasar into a boost, flipping it over and pressing the fighter into a dive.  From the ground, she could see the robot lifting off on engines attached to each foot.  The burning jetpack had been discarded.  Her target zipped up to meet her with surprising speed.

          _What the—_

          One of its fists rammed her hull without a shred of mercy.  The world was a blurred spin and Fara struggled to straighten the Quasar out.  When at least she could decipher the sky from the earth and the fighter was right-side-up, she felt the thrumming of her heart in her chest.  It banged against her ribcage, still frightened by the robot’s last punch.

          “Admiral—” Fara began.

          “Did you not inspect your scanner before you decided the trial was over?” Admiral Kelvin asked her.

          _Ugh.  He has me there.  Stupid mistake… stupid… stupid…_

          Fara did not reply.  The robot came up for another strike, trying to smash the Quasar between its two hands.  She boosted away, U-turned, and fired upon the robot’s head.  It rocked under the pressure of the blasts but it was not enough to deter it.  A few more rounds were fired upon the Quasar and though Fara tried to duck away, a few scraped her left wing.

          _Need to be faster._

          She hit the accelerate.

          _Fox would know how to handle this in a heartbeat.  You’ve gotten rusty.  You’ve become lazy._

          She positioned above the robot again but it was learning.  It lunged upwards again with its fist formed.  But Fara had remembered the last time.  She boosted again and the fist did not find its quarry.  Zipping away, she found the central cannon button, clutching to it with spite in her bright eyes.  Fara U-turned and released the cannon as soon as her aiming reticle found the robot.  The metal plating on its head came off, exposing a skeletal circuit of wires.  Electricity buzzed around its exposed innards, twin eyes gleaming lifeless, malicious red.  Its arm lifted, cannons still functioning.  Two lasers scraped her hull and she cringed on the behalf of whoever had done the paint job the night before.

          _This is such a mess._

          She wanted to laugh and cry.  Her finger found the trigger button instead and she fired a few more lasers at her target.  She held the button down until she had past the robot.  It returned fire as she went by and Fara felt two more dings on the hull.  The fennec’s grip tightened on the joystick and angrily shot twice.  They were clumsy, wrathful shots that sank into the nearest mountain. 

          _I should have dodged that.  I wanted to get another hit in.  I knew it was risky.  Why didn’t I dodge that?_

          Fara circled around again.

          _If you had gone with him, you could’ve been training all this time for real combat.  Not those dumb simulators.  What are you doing, Fara? What are you doing…_

          The Quasar rocked.  The robot’s gun was trained on her.

          _If only I had been more understanding.  If only I had listened to him more._

          She boosted but something was wrong with the engine.  It sputtered out.  Gritting her teeth, she faced the fighter towards the robot.

          _I could’ve been there with him.  I could be there now._

          No, it was too late.  The past was the past.  She would have to live with her choices forever.  Angrily, she kicked the interior of the plane with the side of her foot.  The engine whirred with a spurt of life and the Quasar rocketed forward.  Twin lasers missed the back of her hull by yards.  She spiraled the fighter upwards, letting it gain altitude.  The robot tried to follow but with the damage to its exposed metallic skull, its tracking was damaged.  It awkwardly jerked back and forth in an unsteady trajectory after her.  She pressed the Quasar, watching her speedometer.  When it neared max, she pressed it harder, ears pinned back and nose aimed for the high heavens. 

          _But the truth is that I didn’t take that opportunity.  I didn’t listen.  I didn’t go.  What could’ve become of us if I had just done those things?_

          Fara pulled back hard, releasing the accelerate.  A cry escaped her, eyes trained on the seamless, blue skies above her.  Lylat shone with its usual hope and glory.  She let its warmth wash over her for a moment… and then flipped the Quasar.  Fara felt her heart sing for a few moments.  Everything else stilled; sound stopping for her graceful descent onto the robot.  Fara’s finger found the trigger button, tilting the joystick so the robot’s exposed head was in her sights.  Two shots were all it took to behead her enemy.  With the sound of the lasers still ringing in her ears, the robot began to fall.  Its red dot on her scanner vanished, its mechanical life snuffed out. 

          She went to hit the accelerate, pulling back on the joystick.  But the Quasar had gone rogue in her hands.  A red light flickered on her dashboard—a triangle with an exclamation point in the middle.  An alarm began to beep annoyingly.

          _What?  Engine failure!?_

          “Officer Phoenix, get out of there!” someone on the intercom was yelling, their voice drowning in the sound of the alarm.

          Corneria was rushing up to meet her, the mountains a blur around the falling Quasar.  She reached for the eject button, her finger dumbly hitting the dash twice before she found it.  The cockpit fired backwards as the rest of the Quasar fell away. Her seatbelt tightened across her chest, threatening to crush her.  The blue of Corneria’s skies greeted her again, but they were spinning around her.  She closed her eyes.  Thoughts flashed through her mind but she could not put any words to them.  They were ideas.  Memories.  Daydreams.  What could have been… what could have been…


	3. Extinguished

_Fox was packing his things as she sat on his bed.  The house that he had grown up in was eerily quiet that afternoon.  Pictures of the three of them were hanging on the wall—Fox, James, and Vixy.  Their smiles were bright—they looked so happy.  Fara tried to smile back at them, but it was hard.  So, so hard.  A weight on her chest nearly crushed the breath from her lungs.  She wondered what it was like—to lose both parents at such a young age.  She tried to imagine her life without her mother and father but it was impossible.  They were so integral in everything she did._

_Her eyes fell on Fox and she traced the melancholy that had settled on his features ever since his father’s funeral.  He wore a beige jacket over his green sleeveless shirt.  His suitcase was packed with similar style clothes—she could never get him to change wardrobe, no matter how hard she had tried.  He always wanted to dress like his father._

_“It’s not too late, you know,” Fox said to her. “You could still come with us to Papetoon.”_

_“Fox, you know the CDF won’t just let me leave like that,” Fara replied with a sad half-smile. “They’ll need me.  Maybe now more than ever.  And besides, my father’s manor is back on Papetoon.  I’ll swing by some and we can hang out.”_

_“Mm.  Check on Lucy some for me.  I think she’s still upset her dad won’t let her come with us,” Fox said with a tiny sigh in his voice. “Maybe… it’ll be good you stay.  Just so you can keep an eye on things here.”  He paused. “I can always come back… if you need me to.”_

_“I can handle things.  Lucy and I have a girl’s night planned Friday.  We can talk about how you boys are dumb for running off to play space heroes,” Fara remarked with a coy smile on her lips.  Fox did not seem amused._

_He finished zipping up another compartment of his suitcase.  Fox looked to her with that sort of half-frown he always had when he was thinking hard about something. “You think we’re idiots for doing this?”_

_One of Fara’s large ears flitted to the side. “Well, I’m not going to lie… It has me concerned, Fox.  Your father wasn’t exactly a bad pilot and even he…” The edge in his eyes told her to choose her next words very carefully.  She cleared her throat. “Even a pilot like him couldn’t save the world all on his own.”_

_“I won’t be alone,” Fox replied, picking up the suitcase from his ruffled bed and setting it on the ground. “I’ll have the boys with me.”_

_“And me.  Even though I won’t be there,” Fara tried but Fox did not look convinced.  One of her hands wrapped around her wrist, thumb nervously tapping against her sleeve. “And… and I’m sure General Pepper will be in contact with you…”_

_“He’ll have enough on his plate trying to buff up the defenses.  I don’t want him to worry about us,” Fox shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”_

_“Well,” Fara began tentatively. “I’ll worry about you.”_

_“I guess you’re my girlfriend, so it’s kind of your job,” Fox remarked, his tone softening.  He pulled her into a hug, resting his cheek against her head.  “I’m sorry.  I guess… I guess I just wish you could come…”_

_“I want to,” Fara said. “But it’s just not that simple, Fox.”_

 

* * *

 

          But it had been that simple.  She could have thrown it all away and followed him to the edges of the universe.  She could have had a life of travel, of wonder, of adventure… But she had chosen not to.  There were no words to describe her regret.  And there were no words to make up for how she had let herself become distant from him. 

          Bright lights greeted her when she awoke.  At first, she thought she was dead.  And then, she realized the faces looking down at her were not angels.  They were doctors.  One of them was next to her head, voice drowned out by a ringing in Fara’s ears.  She stared at the medic, trying to will her eyes to focus.  But they could not.  And so she slipped off into slumber again.

          The next time she awoke, she was in a hospital room.  Everything about it screamed sterile, even the spotless glass window to her left, overlooking the polished Corneria City from an absurdly high level.  An IV had been attached to her arm, a monitor on her chest.  She gradually pushed herself upright, letting her hospital gown sag so that it rested just off her left shoulder. 

          “Fara, honey?”

          Her ears swiveled and her eyes found her parents.  They had both risen up from their seats at her bedside to see her, eyes wide with surprise and wonder.  Her mother looked like she had scarcely slept in days.  The area around her eyes was puffy, with the shadows underneath them outlined.  Her magenta sundress was crumpled and looked as worn as her expression.  Similarly, her father looked exhausted, his spectacles barely balanced on his snout.  He reached down to feel Fara’s forehead immediately, as he always did when she was ill.

          “Mom… Dad…” Fara breathed a small sigh. 

          “Frank.  Oh, Frank, darling, we need to get one of the doctors in.  They will want to look her over,” Fara’s mom began at once.

          “Right, right,” Frank Phoenix said, wandering out into the corridor to find a doctor.

          “You’re going to be all right, dear,” Mrs. Phoenix said in her airy, accented voice.  Her petite hands rested on the side railing of Fara’s bed. “We’re in the emergency room.  You hit your head when your escape pod ejected.  Manufacture error, is what the CDF is saying.  They are lucky we don’t sue them for the grief they’ve caused!” She disdainfully gave a sniff, fingers twirling about her pearls with dramatic flair.

          “I signed up for it, Mom,” Fara shook her head.  A sting of pain shot from the base of her head, trailing down her spine like a fiery comet.  She let out a small gasp and settled back into the bed.

          “Oh dear, you mustn’t do that,” Mrs. Phoenix said.  She hurriedly grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it next to Fara’s bed.  Gathering her daughter’s hands into hers, she said, “Now don’t you fret, darling, your father and I will take care of this for you.  You just need to focus on healing.”

          “Mother, I am not a kit anymore,” Fara said, flattening her ears back but her mother would not have any of it.

          “Nonsense, you will _always_ be my kit and I will make sure you are taken care of,” Mrs. Phoenix said firmly.

          Frank Phoenix returned with a sigh.  He pulled up a chair, its legs screeching uncomfortably against the while tile.  With a wince, he plopped down into it, studying Fara’s face behind his thick-rimmed glasses. 

          “I’ve made arrangements to stay on Corneria until you’re better,” Mrs. Phoenix began explaining to her daughter. “Your brother is handling the company until your father returns.  The doctors were saying you will probably need to stay here overnight but you will be able to come home in the morning.  Oh!  Before I forget, do you have anything in your apartment that you need done?  Plants watered?  I can run by and handle it while you’re here…”

          “Yvonne, please, you’re crushing her hands,” Frank said after a moment and Yvonne released her ironlike grip with an indignant “hmph!”.  He smiled regardless, reassuring his daughter. “You’ll be right as rain soon, Fair-bear.  You’ve always been our little fighter.”

          “Thanks,” Fara said, trying not to let everything overwhelm her.  However, her mother’s worried, pressing gaze was doing little to ease her anxiety.  She glanced down at where they had put an IV into her arm, cringing.  Fara had never enjoyed hospitals.  “Did… did the CDF say anything else…?”

          “Nothing to us,” Frank answered. “But I’m sure the Admiral will want to talk to you.”

          _I was afraid of that._

          It was the next day by the time she was discharged from the hospital.  Her parents walked her to her apartment, Yvonne keeping an arm held out in case Fara needed it.  Despite Fara explaining to her several times that she had not hurt her legs, just her head, her mother would hear none of it.  A porter helped her with her bags, carrying them to her doorstep.  Frank tipped him an absurd amount of Lylatian credits.

          The rest of the day was spent lounging.  Despite having her own personal chef, Yvonne was a good cook and made a delightful, spiced stew, which paired nicely with a salad.  Fara lay on the couch as Frank flipped through channels on the television.  She was quietly thankful that nothing about Fox or Dinosaur Planet was on the news.  Her father eventually settled on the game show channel and they watched that until bed. 

           Frank had a flight out the next morning for Papetoon—citing something happening with the industry and needing to converse with the other vice presidents.  Yvonne insisted on staying the rest of the week and Fara knew better than to argue.  After her father had departed for the airport, Yvonne primped her makeup and donned a simple violet and black dress.

          “I am headed to the market, dear.  Your pantry is quite sparse, I must say.  No wonder you are so skinny!” Yvonne said as she threw the door open, letting Lylat’s rays in. 

          “Grab some soda while you’re out!” Fara called from the couch.

          “What a vile beverage… But anything for you, dear!” Yvonne replied and the door shut.

          The silence’s gradual cruelty seeped into Fara’s bones from where she lay.  Though light shone through the windows and her mother had plugged in a pleasant enough incense burner, there was something scary about being alone.  She rubbed her head, the tension buzzing around it dispersing for a few blissful seconds.  When it returned, Fara let out an audible groan.

          _This wouldn’t have happened if you had just focused._

          She sighed.  Here came the storm, the one she had feared this whole time.  Fara had known that she would be left to her thoughts eventually but it did not stop the pain regardless.  She hugged herself, leaning into the cushions of the couch and staring past the blank television screen.  Part of her wanted to open the blinds to chase away the shadows, but another part of her knew it was a futile effort.  She had to face the music. 

          As though fate had heard her, the door knocked.  Three times.  Sharp and loud.  She picked herself up off the couch, glad she had bothered to get somewhat dressed.  One hand shoved casually into the middle pouch of her hoodie, she opened the door.  Lylat was blocked almost entirely by the figure on her porch.  Its backlight nearly blinded her and the fennec was forced to shield her eyes for a moment.

          “Officer Phoenix.”

          It was Admiral Kelvin and her heart sank. 

          “May I come in?”  With his stature and his intimidating voice, there was no way Fara could say no.  Her head bobbed up and down.  When she shuffled a few steps back, Admiral Kelvin stepped inside her apartment, dark eyes sweeping about.  Two others flanked him.  One was Ned from the engineer crew and the other was a sharp-dressed husky, carrying a black leather briefcase.

          Gesturing to the husky, the Admiral said, “Officer Phoenix, this is Timothy Northstar.  He’s our—”

          “Attorney.  He’s the CDF’s attorney,” Fara finished.  Her heart was already racing in her chest, the edges of her vision unfocused.  “Admiral, what is--” Her voice died for a moment, choked up in a rush of emotions.  She pushed the words out forcefully. “What is going on?”

          _No.  No, calm down.  Don’t demand anything.  Just try to stay calm…_

          “Officer Phoenix, you know why we are here,” the Admiral replied, sadness in his dark eyes.  “We are here to negotiate your severance package.”

          “Severance… You’re…” Fara felt her heart rate quicken further.  The sides of her head ached. “You’re firing me…”

          “Let us sit and have a discussion,” the Admiral began. “There is a lot of paperwork to go through.”

          “No,” Fara said, feeling her fur prickle.  Ears back, she glared up at the Admiral, her body quaking with burning, growing rage. 

          His expression was unchanging. “Ms. Phoenix, please.”

          “I don’t want to hear what you have to say.  I’ll give the General a call and he’ll set this straight,” Fara snapped.

          “The General has authorized the termination of your employment to the Cornerian Defense Force,” Admiral Kelvin said calmly.

          _What?_   She felt her despair darken, grabbing at her ankles, infecting her sense of balance.  She leaned against a nearby table, her elbow nearly knocking over a lamp.  _Even the General wants me gone?_

          “Ms. Phoenix, this is the best deal you are going to get, given your circumstances.  I suggest you listen,” Timothy Northstar piped up. “The Admiral has agreed to give you a substantial amount of pay upfront for your services to the Cornerian Empire as well as permit you to keep your pilot’s license.”

          The world was dizzying.  Reality’s cold breath made her fur stand on end.  She felt like a sledgehammer had crushed her chest, ribcage obliterated.  One of Fara’s hands rested on her forehead, absorbing what was happening.  Her stomach churned, the depths of her throat burning.  She wanted to puke.  She wanted to scream.  She wanted to cry.  But numbness constricted her.  She could not even summon a tear.  And so she stared forward in empty loathing.  Devastation dulled her rage for a moment.  She tried to imagine what life would be like away from the CDF.  Even though it had been monotonous some days, it had given her a reason to get up in the morning.

          _You wouldn’t be going through this if you had just gone with Fox.  You idiot.  You could’ve had a life of adventure.  A life of fun.  A life of not knowing where you would wake up the next day.  It could’ve been great.  But you.  You chose this path.  This path that’s going to kill you eventually._

          “How much pay?” Fara asked begrudgingly.

          “Three months.  Enough time for someone of your caliber to find another job, I am certain,” the Admiral said.

          “As a what?  _Carrier_ pilot?” Fara asked scathingly.

          “As something that does not cost the military millions in repairs,” the Admiral snapped back with such an intensity that the fennec nearly leapt from her skin.  “Newton, if you would be so kind.”

          Ned looked positively _petrified_ as he flipped through his clipboard—the very same one he used to check over the Quasar.  Trembling hands fumbling through the pages, he began to read off, “Q-Quasar Mark IV… d-d-d-damages… E-engine failure.  Cause?  O-o-overspeed.  E-e-extreme exertion of engine… Hull c-compromised b-b-beyond recognition… Cause?  E-engine failure a-at high alt-altitudes… d-due to overspeed.  R-resulting crash s-severely damaged b-both wings…”

          “Give her the total,” the Admiral said abruptly.

          “R-righto… erm… t-three million… Lylatian credits…” Ned stammered out, looking like he wanted to wilt and die on the spot.

          “Coupled with the half million from the trial before and the three thousand from the trial before that,” the Admiral shook his head. “Ms. Phoenix, it is simply too much.”

          “And what about the escape pod?” Fara shot back. “The escape pod that nearly knocked my damn head off!”

          “We… do apologize for that and your hospital expenses will be paid for,” the Admiral replied in his typical business-like fashion. “However, even despite this, your history in the Quasar alone speaks enough of your work ethic. I am afraid this is where we will be parting ways.  Mr. Northstar, if you would, please.”

          “This paperwork is to be filled out immediately,” Northstar opened his briefcase.  He handed her a surprisingly large packet of documents, expression quite grave. “It details everything you will and will not be allowed to discuss as a civilian of the Cornerian Empire.”

          _Civilian.  I helped in the Lylat Wars, you know.  I helped defend this planet from Andross.  And this… this is what I get…?_

          “All discussion of the Quasar is prohibited, of course.  The ah… _accident_ will also be a topic forbidden to discuss.  As the Quasar was destroyed in the crash, we thought it best to move forward with other projects,” the Admiral chimed in.

          “Can’t… can’t I run this by a lawyer?” Fara asked.

          “I am afraid not.  This was already in your contract when you signed on as the chief test pilot for the CDF,” the Admiral shook his head.

          “And I can’t talk to a lawyer?” Fara asked skeptically.

          “Ms. Phoenix, for your sake, I would refrain from making a fuss.  It took me great measures to get you this deal—particularly to prevent your pilot’s license from being revoked.  Do not ruin it with your pride and ego,” the Admiral said coolly.

          Defeated, Fara led them to the table, where she began to sign the waivers.  It felt like she had signed away her life’s work.  Everything she had ever wanted was gone.  It was her reward for her stupidity.  Her eyes barely skimmed the words.  She let her trembling hand sign her name over and over again.  The quality of her signature diminished bit by bit until it was just a childish scribble on each page.  She could not bring herself to care anymore.

          When the three of them had left, Fara stood for a long while staring at the closed door.  Arms crossed over her chest, she fought against the numbness dwelling in her chest.  Her limbs felt like they were crackling with energy but her head ached.  She walked to her kitchen, turning on the faucet.  Splashing cold water did not help shake her shock away but it soothed her headache. 

          She dunked her head under the faucet for a few seconds, letting the cold water drip down her fur.  It dampened the edge of her hoodie and it splashed unceremoniously on the counter.  Fara did not care, she savored any moment of relief she could get.  She pulled her head back from underneath the sink, giving herself a shake to get rid of the droplets. 

          _My name is Fara Phoenix, and I am jobless._

          Fara closed her eyes and imagined the Center as she would remember it.  Slightly busy with people in the lobby.  Fancy technicians in the hangars, some of them welding parts on by hand rather than using machines.  The smell of coffee and cleaning products wafting in the air as one strolled down the hallway.  Glass windows, glass cubicles.  The Quasar, sitting sleek next to the other experiments.

          _It’s gone now.  And it’s my fault._

          She slid to the tile floor of the kitchen, feeling her numbness give way.  Tears burned her eyes, flaking on her lashes.  The first sob that came out surprised her.  She wailed, chest aching as the realization settled in.  Fara’s nails sank into her fur, desiring nothing more than to tear into something intangible.  Knees tucked up to her chin, she rested her head on her arms and cried. 

          _Fox is gone.  The Quasar’s gone.  What’s left?  I gave up Fox for the CDF.  And then I wasn’t enough.  So what then?_

          Fara was not sure how much time had passed before the front door opened.  Yvonne strode in sporting a new, flappy white hat and an armful of groceries.  Sunlight streamed in around her, haloing her silhouette as though she were an angel.

          “Fara, darling, I am so sorry I took so long, I saw the most adorable boutique and I just had to—Oh.  Oh dear,” Yvonne lowered her sunglasses at her sobbing wreck of a daughter.  The groceries went to the floor immediately, the fair lady kicking the door shut behind her (a quite talented feat, given how she was wearing high heels).

          When Yvonne came to her side, Fara was not aware how much she needed her mother’s hug.  Yvonne’s arms wrapped around the sobbing fennec. Warmth surrounding her, Fara felt another sob tear from her lips and she leaned against her mother, letting Yvonne hold her.  Her mother’s hands stroked the back of her head, tender and soft. 

          “There, there, darling…” she whispered and Fara’s arms wrapped around her mother. 

          “Mom… Mom, there’s… there’s something I need to tell you…” Fara managed after a moment, looking up at her mother tearfully.  Yvonne gave a silent nod, brushing her daughter’s tears away. 

          _Everything.  I need to tell you everything._

          “Mom…” Fara began, breath shaky.  She felt her body tremble, threatening to give way to grief at every moment.  Inhaling again, she closed her eyes, forcing the words out in an unsteady jetstream. “I regret it.  I regret staying here.  I regret not going with Fox when I should’ve.”

          “Fox?” Yvonne’s thinly-trimmed brows rose. 

          “I… I know… It’s been years since he and I…” Fara sniffled.  “But I regret it, Mom.  I regret not going with him.  I wish… I wish I could go back and just…” Her bleary eyes scanned the kitchen, rage bubbling in her veins.  She wanted to throw something.  She wanted to cut a hole in time and go back to the start.  Away from all of this.

          “I wish I had never split it off with him.  I wish… I wish I just go.  Wherever the wind takes me.  Away from here, with the stupid rules and politics and deadlines and—” Fara continued, emotions swelling like a tidal wave in her chest.

          “Fara, darling,” Yvonne took her daughter’s face into her hands. “But you _can_ do that.”

          “But…” Fara began. 

          “Turn your two weeks’ notice to your boss when you return to work.  And then, you can start looking at something you want to do.  Something that makes you feel good.  You’ve clearly burned out on your current job—you do not even seem to enjoy it,” Yvonne noted with a ‘tut’. 

          “Mother… they fired me,” Fara admitted and Yvonne’s brows arched higher.

          “Oh.  Well, even more perfect.  Now you do not have to slough through one of those awful letters and we can get started on what you want to do,” Yvonne replied enthusiastically.

          “But… I don’t know if it’s worth it.  Not without him…” Fara began heavily.

          “Oh pish-posh, my dear.  If you keep dwelling on that, you will miss out on the rest of your life.  You are still young, there is still much in store for you,” Yvonne waved her hand, but caught her daughter’s depressed look.  An ear flitting to the side, the fair lady began to stroke the top of Fara’s head comfortingly. “And I know, those words make sense and yet they do not.  Because you are heartbroken.  But maybe, someday, you’ll understand.”

          “It does make sense.  And I’ve been telling myself that for years now…” Fara sighed. “It never seems to stick… Not when it matters, at least.”

          Yvonne smiled softly.  Her dress billowed around her like flower petals.  She planted a gentle kiss atop her daughter’s head and said, “It is not something I can teach you.  It is something you have to teach yourself.  Now, come.”  She rose from the kitchen floor. 

          “What are you doing?” Fara asked her.

          “I am making you tea,” Yvonne said firmly. “But first, you are going to help me put away these groceries.”

          “You… you’re not upset…?” Fara asked. “I… I messed up bad, Mom.  I should’ve just focused on my job.  I should’ve just—” _I should’ve just tried to forget Fox McCloud._

          “Oh darling, you do not need to make excuses for me.  These things happen.  We can worry about your next job later.  Tonight, we are going to have fun!” Yvonne declared. “And I will hear no protest!  Fun only!  No more tears!”

          _Oh Mom, if only you knew how my brain works.  I can’t just shut this off.  I’ve been trying for years._

          “Okay,” Fara relented, smiling weakly.              


	4. Rise Again

  Fara helped her mother pack away the bountiful groceries (wondering to herself how Yvonne had managed to carry them all up the stairs by herself).  There was a suspiciously large amount of wine in her purchase, along with chocolate and other foods Fara might not have considered to be entirely healthy.  She side-eyed her mother as she packed the pantry, feeling as though Yvonne’s purchases might have been a little too convenient. 

          “Did you… did you know they were going to fire me…?” Fara asked her as she pulled out a fifth bottle of wine from the grocery bags.

          “No, but I knew that you needed wine,” Yvonne replied airily, turning on the radio.  She switched it to a lively jazz station.

          “How did you know that?” Fara asked with a raised brow.

          “Darling, every girl needs wine.  That’s how we stay out of jail.  The world is infuriating and a glass keeps me from taking a hatchet to the nearest aggravation,” Yvonne Phoenix said with a sweet smile and Fara gave a chuckle.

          “Mother, I couldn’t imagine you swinging a hatchet around,” Fara admitted.

          “And where did you think you got your adventurous side from?  It certainly was not your father!” Yvonne retorted. “Anywho, your tea, darling.”  She handed Fara a warmed mug, steam still rising from its surface.  One whiff and Fara could scent the chamomile wafting from the tea.  She drank it down in a surprisingly quick fashion.  It scalded her tongue but she cherished the richness of its taste.

          As promised, the rest of the afternoon was filled with what Fara could only describe as fun.  Her mother had taken the liberty of purchasing her some outfits to try on and though Fara was not terribly keen on the flowy, ritzy dresses her mother had picked out, a few glasses of wine made her more susceptible to her mother’s persuasion.  Donned in fancy dresses both, the two fennecs strolled down the street to the nearest restaurant the demanding Yvonne Phoenix declared “worthy” enough of their presence.  She selected a not-entirely-reputable all-you-can-eat buffet mostly because it had nice glassware.  They ate their fill (and then some more) and decided to “walk it off” by going to the nearest strip mall.  

          Yvonne insisted on putting Fara in some of the most elegant dresses the fashion stores had to offer.  Fara, blushing as she stepped out of the dressing room each time, endured her own impromptu fashion show as Yvonne cheered her on—and quite loudly, too.  Everyone in the store watched, a few bystanders chuckling and clapping.  Six outfits later and Fara finally convinced her mother that it was time for the next store… but not before Yvonne purchased a lovely silken lilac dress for her daughter.

          The next store was a spiritual shop—varied in its wares and showcasing items from various religions.  Fara nearly rolled her eyes as her mother dragged her in, not being one for such things.  Yvonne, however, was absolutely enamored by it all, putting a few charms in her basket.

          “Mother, you know that sort of stuff doesn’t work, right?” Fara asked with a scowl.

          “Oh, pish-posh, darling.  I am getting you Aquan pearls for fortune and rose-scented oils to attract a dashing young officer,” Yvonne responded and Fara facepalmed.

          “Mother…” Fara began.

          “I can see him now,” Yvonne said dramatically.  “His name is Martin and he has five gold medals from the war.  A dashing smile.  A handsome beach bod.”  She fanned herself.  Fara felt her ears burn.

          “Can you not?” Fara asked.

          “We can always go back to the dress store if you would like,” Yvonne remarked with a sly grin and Fara knew better than to protest.

          By the time they were done with their girl’s day, the evening had fallen onto Corneria City.  The two ladies made it back to Fara’s apartment and spent the rest of the night in their pajamas, watching chick flicks and drinking more wine.  Every time Fara thought they had gone through every bottle, Yvonne would pull another out.

          “Mother, you’re going to get me drunk!” Fara protested, already feeling a slur to her words.

          “Nonsense, dear, a Phoenix lady knows how to hold her wine,” Yvonne tutted at her. 

          “Unfortunately, Mother, I didn’t attend as many cocktail parties as you did when you were my age,” Fara retorted, accepting the glass of Cornerian Red. 

          There was a hesitation in Yvonne’s actions before she let Fara have the glass.  A smile flickered on her features, melancholic and remembering.  “That could change.”

          “What?” Fara asked, ears perking.

          Yvonne shook her head at her daughter.  “Nothing, dearie.  Nothing.  Now, we’ve both gotten new glasses… so… new movie?”  Fara nodded and they carried on that way until after midnight.

          The following morning found Fara in a slight wine hangover.  She stumbled from her bed and found her mother making toast and scrambling some eggs on the stove.  The radio played nearby.  Two people were discussing politics and trade routes—boring things that Fara had never bothered to learn about.  She did notice the radio had been dusted off as of late, the likely culprit standing just a few feet away with a slight bounce to her movements as she cooked.

          “Good morning, dear,” her mother greeted her.  “Feeling well enough for breakfast?”

          “Yeah, I think so,” Fara replied and sat down at the table. “You feelin’ okay?”

          “Peachy,” Yvonne flashed her a smile and began to make a plate. “Your father called this morning.  He wants to have a sit down chat with you later.”

          “You told him, didn’t you…” Fara sighed.  _I guess I should’ve expected to face the music eventually…_

          “Well, I had to,” Yvonne replied firmly.  She served Fara her plate and looked down at her with that tender, motherly look. “He just wants to talk, darling.  He’s not upset at you.”

          _Not upset?  I doubt that._

          “If you say so,” Fara said, munching on her toast thoughtfully. 

          They ate breakfast together, basking in the quiet of the mid-morning.  The radio moved from talking about politics to soft classical music, heavy on the violin and piano.  Yvonne had opened the windows to let the sunlight in, watering Fara’s plants that sat on the windowsill with a pleasant smile engraved on her face.  She was purposeful in all of her movements—fluid as river water and meaningful as a jab from a thorn.  Fara watched her as she ate her breakfast, letting the music roll over her.

          _What does Dad want to talk about?  Is he checking up on me?  If Mom’s here, then he should know that I’ll be all right._ Maybe he just wanted to talk about her firing.  Fara sighed, not wanting to relive that memory again.  Though her legs felt like weights, she forced herself to get up and get changed in her room.

          The thought of talking to her father made her select her wardrobe carefully.  Her father was one of the wealthiest men in the Cornerian Empire and she felt bad addressing him in a hoodie and jeans.  She grabbed a hunter green blouse and some dark jeans.  A golden necklace with a white gem in its center adorned her necklace and she even took a moment to brush out her fur and apply some eyeliner.  She colored her eyelids an earthy brown and applied black mascara to her lashes.  When she looked at herself in the mirror, she could still see traces of her exhaustion in her eyes.  Fara smiled to try to banish the depression that so evidently seeped into the details of her face.  The gesture only seemed to highlight them.

          By the time she emerged from her room, her mother had set up the face-to-face call.  Sitting politely on the sofa with the camera on the coffee table, Yvonne had primped her makeup and looked as dainty as a flower.  At Fara’s approach, her ears perked, swiveling in her daughter’s direction.  Fara sat on her mother’s left.

          “Ah, you look beautiful,” Yvonne beamed at her daughter. “Shall we begin?”

          _Am I ready for this?  To face the music?_

          “Yeah,” Fara nodded to her mother, exhaling out her worries.  Or trying to.  She was not sure if she was successful.

          Yvonne clicked the call button and the screen buzzed to life with a “Calling” message.  Fara felt her heart race but she tried to control her expression, staring blankly ahead at the screen.  She gave a small start when her father’s face appeared.  He looked comfortably seated in his office on Papetoon.  Beyond his armchair, she could see her older brother, Liam, standing at attention with his hands behind his back.  His wistful expression had not changed since she had last seen him—and it was then that Fara realized that must have been at least a year ago. 

          “Good morning, honey,” Yvonne beamed at Franklin Phoenix, who looked quite serious.  Fara felt a lump in her throat already.

          “Good morning,” Frank Phoenix replied, sparing them the tiniest of smiles.  Liam’s expression did not shift. “How is Corneria City?”

          “Lovely weather.  I keep telling you we should get a summer home out here in the city.  Or at least along the coast; something to counter the dryness of home,” Yvonne replied.

          “Oh please, and when was the last time you visited our Zoness beach house?” Frank retorted but Fara could see he was silently pondering the idea of a Cornerian summer home.  His gaze fell on Fara and she struggled to not break eye contact.  “Fair-bear, you’re looking better already.  How’s the head?”

          _It’s only Dad.  Why am I so nervous? Why do I feel like a kit that’s been caught sneaking out after curfew?_

          “I _feel_ a lot better,” Fara said with a smile that she did not have to force—not entirely, at least.  “Head’s fine.  Not so good when I move fast, but it’s definitely improving!”

          “Good,” replied Frank Phoenix.  His eyes darkened. “Your mother told me what happened…”

          She winced, feeling his words like sharp thorns.  They petrified her for a moment, the rims of her vision blurring.  There was an intensity in his stare; she felt him plucking her apart piece by piece.  He was examining everything she did.  Every shifty glance, every twitch.  But she could not deny her anxious body their small comforts—she broke her gaze, staring slightly below him.  Her lip quivered, but her eyes did not water.  Instead, she felt the world become a mess of color and shapes, blurring together like a million shades of paint mixed together on a canvas.

          _It’s only Dad.  Why do I feel like…?_

          “It’s okay, Fair-bear.  This is just the next chapter in your life,” Frank smiled at her.  The gesture ought to have been happy but there was sadness in his eyes.  She felt that cleave at her emotions.  Her father shifted in his desk chair.  Liam had barely moved at all since the call started, his demeanor frosty as ever.

          “Y-yeah, I guess so,” Fara managed out when she realized that all social cues pointed to her giving her father a response.  She tried to smile.  It was a failure.

          “I’ve been looking at options for you.  You know your mother and I care about you,” her father continued.  “We have some openings here at Firebird Industries, if you are interested.”  Pause.  “You could come home.  Your room is still here in the manor.  Or… if you would rather, we could find another apartment for you.”

          _Firebird Industries… Selling supplies to build weapons?  Working at a factory?  Managing trade routes? Outfitting the next generation of soldiers in armor cut from our steel…?_ The thought made her want to wilt. 

          “I…” Fara began, ears back.

          “I know it’s never been your passion,” Franklin said with his keen smile. “But you’ve always had a knack for logistics and for making friends.  And we’d love to have someone with your weapons expertise in our company.”

          _Making friends?  Dad, you never paid attention at all.  Do you see anyone else here for me other than Mom?  They all left.  They’re all gone._ Fara felt her own spite, its strength leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.  _Did I push them away?  Is my misery contagious?_  

          “I don’t know what use I would be,” Fara confessed, gradually meeting his gaze.  In her peripherals, she noticed Liam’s tiny smirk.  It burned in her memory like a brand still hot from the fire.  She found herself unable to look away from him.

          “We are in need of someone who isn’t afraid to travel,” Franklin said and Fara felt herself perk up, focus shifting on him.  “And someone who does not mind politics.”

          _I hate politics,_ she thought to herself bitterly.  _But I can do politics… The army felt mostly like politics, especially these last few years._

          “Firebird Industries is looking at expanding.  More factories mean that we will need more land.  That’s negotiating.  Inspection.  Hiring new workers for those factories.  The Lylat Wars have been over for almost a decade.  A lot of the soldiers who signed up for the CDF and CA aren’t going to want to stick to a life of patrols and waiting,” Frank Phoenix explained. “And some of them are on-call only.  They aren’t getting much benefit.”

          “Expanding?  We already have factories all over the Lylat System,” Fara began, realizing she had already used the word ‘we’. 

          Her father had noticed, his smile broadening, “General Pepper has given the greenlight to begin work on several colonization projects.  Fortuna, Fichina, Aquas, and even the remote planet of Kew have all been deemed fit to join the Cornerian Empire.  It’s not been announced yet, so I would not go telling all of your friends.”

          “And you’re wanting to start working on putting headquarters on each planet…” Fara considered.  It was a bold move.  But that was who her father was—behind his thick-rimmed glasses was a man who had built an empire of steel.  “That would require a lot of negotiating.  But I’m not sure…” Her smile was feeble. “… I’m not sure I’m the person to do it.”

          “Fair-bear,” Frank said softly.  She was ever amazed at how he could sound so tender yet maintain such a stern expression.  “… Have you ever thought about anything other than flying?”

          Her ears went back.  Flying had always been the answer to everything in her life.  When she was scared?  She flew.  When she was angry?  She flew.  When she was happiest?  She was flying.  She could not imagine a life without the sky enveloped around her.  She could not bear to think of being grounded—so literally. 

          _They let me keep my license..._ Fara tried to will the words out but found that their spines had crumbled to dust.  What then?  She had a license and no plane.  No company would hire her if they took a glance at her record over the last year.  _Burn it all_ , a darker part of her hissed from the shadows.  She silenced that voice; closing her eyes and focusing in on what she needed to say. 

          “No.  I suppose I haven’t.  It’s just always been a part of me,” Fara explained, silently proud of herself for not letting her voice quiver.

          “And it can still be a part of you,” Franklin explained. “But it doesn’t have to be _all_ of you.”

          She lifted her head, thoughts cleared for a moment as she let his words settle into her chest.  Her heart weighed them, feeling their value.  Fara Phoenix was not one to admit others were right.  One look around her apartment and she knew he had no rebuttal.  No friends left in the city, she had sunken into a solitary life.  Her phone calls back home had been sparse.  Her hobbies had dwindled into aimlessly surfing the Lylatian Web and flicking through channels. 

          _I want everything to go back to the way it was before!_   That part of her adamantly stamped its foot, wishing to will away her dismissal with sheer mind power.  Nothing could stop her from showing up to work and getting into another test model, right?  … Right?  When she blinked, the fennec could see the guards rushing to stop her.  She could almost feel how harsh their grips were on her arms.  She could almost hear the Admiral…

            _No.  Nothing can go back to that.  And even before that.  It’s all gone now.  Fox is gone._

          Tears glazed her eyes, burning as they came into existence.  She hated crying, especially in front of her family.  Jaw set, she tried to force the tears back, but two rebellious ones dripped from her eyes.  Remnants of their touch caress her eyelashes, turning her peripherals starry.  Realization drowned her.  Her vision blurred out of focus as her stream of thoughts took center stage. 

          _Did I stay here hoping that it would all fix itself?  That maybe he’d come back.  Maybe somehow, if I ran the Quasar over and over, I’d find meaning in the boring things they’d make me do?  How many years did I stay here?_ Her eyes skirted to Yvonne, who had gently laid her palm onto Fara’s clasped hands.  _When was the last time that I was home for Mom’s birthday?  When was the last time I even bothered to buy her anything? When was the last time I went to Papetoon?  I’ve been dwelling out here, waiting for something to happen, too scared to realize it’s never going to happen.  I’ve just been here… wasting my life away… existing like… like some sort of ghost…_

          “Go on,” managed Fara, dragging her tired eyes to meet her father’s.

          She could see his remorse in the way he tried to smile.  His genuine tone never faltered—not once.

          “You have talents you haven’t explored yet.  You have skills that you could put to use.  All you have to do is make that first step, Fara.  Life doesn’t have to be over just because…” He paused and she could sense he was trying to find the right word. “… Just because your time at the CDF is.”

          _I hate living like this.  And I don’t like the idea of going back to Papetoon to work for my dad’s company..._ But maybe it would not be so bad.  Maybe it would be a step in the right direction?

          “What do you think?” Fara asked her mother.

          Yvonne had been silent this whole time, smiling through her own sorrow.  Hands still resting atop her daughter’s, she inched closer, inhaling deeply.  Her ears flitted back, eyes studying her daughter’s hands as she summoned up words to fit her opinion.

          “Fara, darling,” Yvonne said softly. “I know this seems like an ending, dear.  But it’s not.  It’s just the beginning of something new.  Something _exciting_.”  She squeezed Fara’s hand. “Come home to Papetoon.  Leave this dreary, bleach-white city behind.  Leave it behind with all its bad memories.  And let’s make good ones.  Together.  As a family.” 

          _Sitting alone in an apartment hating my life?  Or trying to get my shit back together?  Logically, there isn’t a choice.  There’s only one answer.  But I’m so tired.  I’m so worn out.  I feel like I don’t even have the energy to comprehend what’s happening right now…_

          “I’ll do it,” Fara decided, voice airy and faint.  The world felt twisted and strange.  She grounded herself by squeezing her mother’s hand. The next time she spoke, she felt stronger. “I’ll come home.” 

          _I hope this is the right choice.  Just saying it feels like defeat.  It doesn’t feel hopeful at all._

          Liam could not hide his surprise, but it was swiftly eclipsed with one of his characteristic smirks.  Franklin looked delighted.  Yvonne’s exhale brushed through the fur of Fara’s cheek.  The release of tension in her mother’s shoulders spoke volumes for how anxious she had been during their conversation.  Her sunshine smile was enough to curl Fara’s lip—if only slightly.

          “Good to hear, Fair-bear.  I’ll start making arrangements for you to get your own office.  Yvonne, do you need me to come back to help move her from her apartment?” Frank asked.

          “No, dear, let me handle this,” Yvonne said with a small wink. “Liam, you’ve been awfully quiet.  Don’t you have anything to say to your sister?”

          Liam quirked a brow, leaning in towards the camera.  He lingered just above his father’s right shoulder, gaze scrutinizing.  His irises shone hazel, illuminated in the vivid Papetoon light coming in from the office window.  They were a mossy green, their hue dimmer than her own.  A ring of gold held his pupil in a thin ring—gold, reminding her of the rings during her test flights.  She smiled but it felt like a wince.

          Fara could never had said she had a close relationship with her older brother; he was always shadowing their father and learning the tricks of the business world.  He had never shared her love for aviation, preferring a seat behind a hand-crafted, ornate desk with an ink pen as his weapon.  Despite all the heat of their arid home, he was as cold as ice.  A cutthroat smile wound its way across his maw.

          “I can’t wait for you to come home, dear sister,” Liam said with a voice that felt like Fichinan winter.

          _Geesh, what was that for, I wonder?_

          “I can’t wait to _be_ home,” Fara smiled back at him and Liam shifted back to his previous position.

          The four of them said their goodbyes and once the call had ended, Fara looked to Yvonne—catching a mere glimpse of her mother before she threw herself atop her daughter in a large, warm hug.  Thin arms wrapped around her, the fennec let herself be held for a moment, her mother nuzzling the top of her head gently.

          “I’m so proud of you, darling!  You’re taking a step towards making your life better.  I promise it!  You won’t regret this!” Yvonne exclaimed, pulling her daughter even tighter into her chest.  “Oh, we’ll have to get more dresses for you.  And shoes!  Let’s go shopping before we pack.  Cornerian style is so much more sophisticated than Papetoon style, if I’m quite honest.”

          “Mother, you’re choking me!” Fara said with a small chuckle.  Yvonne released her and Fara took a moment to savor the taste of sweet, blissful oxygen.

          “I am sorry darling, I just got so excited,” Yvonne apologized. “Let’s get started packing!  I can call a moving company to get your furniture.  We can store it away for later.  Your room is still in the manor, you know.  I may… have to get you a bigger bed.  We can buy one, though, no need for your current one—it looks like it saw the worst of the Lylat Wars and lived to tell the tale.  No offense, dearie.  Oh, this is wonderful, I hope you’re as excited as I am!”

          The next two days that followed, Fara was certain time had accelerated its pace.  Her mother was a whirlwind, unstoppable no matter how hard Fara tried to get her to slow down.  She found herself unable to dampen Yvonne’s spirits as she packed away her daughter’s belongings, jamming out to a radio.  Lyrics would flow from her mother’s lips like water, her hands never stopping their tasks.  When one room was done, Yvonne would declare its completion like a battle cry before moving onto the next one. 

          Fara tried to keep up, but her exhaustion and headache coupled, forming a tenacious fever that left her sitting on the couch as her mother cleared everything around her.  Each time an item was put into a box, she felt herself doubt.  Liam’s smirk lingered like a ghost in the back of her mind. 

          _Is this right?_

          His smirk told her otherwise.  Fox’s memory screamed at her, that she was useless, that she was stuck, that she was making a mistake.  He had never said those things to her, but her insecurities always manifested in his voice.  Fara did not have to ponder hard on the symbolism there.

          When dusk began to drape its bleak cloak upon the sterile, white capital city, the apartment was deemed emptied.  Yvonne had paid for a hauling company to take the boxes to the airport to load them onto the next ferry to Papetoon.  Fara watched them go with their bulky van.  She dropped her keys off at the front desk of her apartment office, thanking them with a half-smile.  Her hands sank into the warm comfort of her pockets and she walked up to her mother outside with a sigh nagging her maw.  The parking lot had captured the spirit of wistful serenity, muted reds cast over the heavens.  No one was there but them—the parked hovercars around them standing like silent eavesdroppers. 

          “Are you ready, dear?” Yvonne asked her as she opened the door to her borrowed hovercar.

          _No,_ thought Fara, but her mouth said, “Yeah.”

          “Let’s go,” Yvonne smiled at her and they both got into the hovercar.

          By the time they reached the airport, dusk had evolved into the fading moments of twilight.  Maroon lined the sky at the very edge of the horizon—kissing them both farewell until the next day.  As Yvonne returned the car, Fara stood by and let life pass around her, shrinking back into her thoughts.

          _It’s really happening.  I’m really leaving._

The sound of ferries taking off was surreal.  Their hum in the background was clunky, unrefined like the ships she had been used to piloting.  She glanced out the window in time to see one carry itself skyward, into the stars above.  Further in the distance, CDF planes patrolled.  Their sight left her stomach churning like Aquas’s cruel, dark water tides. 

          When she closed her eyes, she saw the Quasar as it had been before the accident.  It was so sleek, so raw in power.  In her mind, Fara Phoenix was running her hands over it.  Its metal called to her silently, whispering the joys they had shared together and mourning their losses.  In that moment, Fara tried to tell it that it was not meant to be.  The words came out like tangles, knots of nonsense falling from her conscious.  She opened her eyes and shooed the image away.  There was no sense to reliving heartbreaks. 

          _I have a new life ahead of me._

          Moisture clung to the edges of her eyes.  She banned them from becoming tears.  As her mother finished talking with the rental agency, Fara found herself able to momentarily shed the weight of grief in her chest.  She walked alongside Yvonne when they departed, doing her best to mimic her mother’s confident movements.  It felt like acting.  It felt hollow. 

          They were ushered through security when they got to the airport, ushered to check in at the front desk, and then ushered through more security.  Even in the wake of the Lylat Wars, the Cornerians did not skimp out on their regulations.  They sat in the terminal together not long after—a brief moment passing before the next ferry arrived.

          “Now boarding for Papetoon City,” a lady on the intercom announced.

          “That’s us!” Yvonne exclaimed, gathering her purse.  “I hope our luggage makes it!”

          “Me too,” Fara said, feeling the words catch in her throat.  Yvonne looked at her for a moment, concerned.  She took her daughter’s hand and they passed through the gate and into the loading ramp.  When the line was reduced to single file, Yvonne let her grip drop.

          Her mother complained about it being “too stuffy”, but her words became background buzz.  Fara looked out at the ramp, taking in the Corneria City skyline for one last time.  Anxiety had her wondering if she would ever see those skyscrapers again.  Depression told her she was making a worse mistake than she could ever imagine.  Fara swallowed them both back, shuffling up a few steps.

          _Jump_.

          The impulsive thought struck her like lightning.  Her eyes swiveled down at the several foot drop.  Her heart raced.  Each beat seemed more deafening than the last.

          _Just jump.  You can do it.  What’s the worst that could happen?  You die?_

          Her hand gripped the railing tighter.

          _You break your legs?  Oh boo-hoo._

          The railing seemed to nip back at her as her hold tightened.

          _You could escape this.  Run into the city.  She’d never find you.  She couldn’t chase you, she’s too slow.  She’s wearing heels.  She can’t stop you.  Nothing can really stop you.  Jump.  Go back to the Quasar.  The Admiral can get you a new one.  Guards stopping you?  No.  They wouldn’t waste that on you.  They’d see you were fine all along.  They’d give it all back to you.  Just jump.  What’s the worst that could happen, Fara Phoenix?_

          She wanted to.  She wanted to make that leap and run back to what was comfortable.  Back into that misery she had wrapped herself in.  Change was scary.  It demanded things of her.  Misery was fine with her imperfections.  Misery was fine to point them out and salt her wounds. 

          _Jump._

          “Fara?” Yvonne asked, looking down the slope at her daughter.  She extended her hand.  “Are you coming?”

          The question sliced through her thoughts.  Her impulses went silent.  A weight fell from her chest.  Her breath caught in her throat.  She tried to grab at reasoning.  She tried to ensnare logic.  But her mind was in shambles.  Her mouth opened.  Nothing came out.  Fear beyond fear held her; the gravity of the situation, the burden of her choice, felt so heavy that she felt numb. 

          _It’s now or never.  Do I want to stay here, where I know nothing will change?  Or do I take that first step?  Do I rise again?_

          In the span of a blink, she thought of Fox on the day he had left, solemn as a funeral procession.  She thought of the sight of her empty apartment.  She thought of the smell of the Quasar burning.  She thought of the Admiral’s stern scowl. 

          _I burned out._

          Her hand reached out.

          _But I’ll rise again._

          “Yeah,” Fara said, gripping her mother’s hand and walking aboard the ferry to Papetoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this fic! I'm surprised it turned out this long, as I originally had planned it to be a quick little vignette. I guess my brain just wouldn't shut up about Fara Phoenix, which is probably due to the fact that I re-read the Itoh comics recently. 
> 
> As it has been a rather rough year for me, I found a lot of stress relief in writing a character that was also dealing with instability. Life is hard, and it's okay to be sad sometimes. But it's not okay to give up, so please never do that!
> 
> I also especially loved writing Yvonne because wholesome mother-daughter relationships are too rare these days in fiction and I felt like we needed more.
> 
> "To Ashes" definitely has a sequel planned out, but I'm not sure when I will get around to it. So please stay tuned for more Fara Phoenix adventures sometime in the future!


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